


Pictures of Me

by Kuromori (Charred_Ground)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adult Keith (Voltron), Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, keith's birthday, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-22 03:18:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12472280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charred_Ground/pseuds/Kuromori
Summary: Years after all the battles and the war Keith gets a special gift to show how far he's come.





	Pictures of Me

The first thing I felt was an itch in my nose. I tried to ignore it by curling up tighter under the covers, but itches tend to win no matter how stubborn I think I am. For the record I never considered myself to be stubborn but you get called something enough and eventually it can become a part of you. So, I scratched my nose out of spite. Doing more harm to myself than needed for the tiny nuisance, but I was annoyed.

Agitated and awake now my eyes opened and focused on a familiar ceiling. Silver panels with soft blue lit seams stretched above me. It wasn’t my favorite color scheme but my partner liked it. I didn’t care enough to fight about it then. It was more important to him, anyway, so I let him have whatever he wanted. 

Sitting up I rubbed my neck and massaged down into my shoulder. Looking over the bed I pouted, I can’t help it whenever I see an empty cold space beside me. Lance was already up. The house would be quiet now. The kids already taken in to school, and he would be out working on some thing or other. 

One of the great things about being retired Paladins was that we would be set for life and never have to lift a finger. However, retirement didn’t sit well with most of us. After surviving a universal war, even the most laid back in our select group felt uncomfortable sitting still. Granted, it had been nice for a bit, but a lot of us weren’t the same people we were going in. We’d seen too much, been through too much. When everything was over and the cleanup complete, we separated and went about our lives either on Earth or elsewhere. Eventually drifting back together. It’s how I ended up with Lance. My life before Voltron had been a lonely, and I never felt it more painfully than in the few years after. The universe was safe. The people were happy. But I was struggling to find a place again. Relationships didn’t feel real to me. They were shallow and empty moments, and I was not the best companion in those years. Pidge would say that I was an adrenaline junkie. Nothing felt alive to me. Lance understood. His experiences were the same. He knew me. I knew him. It just happened. We woke up together one morning and never looked back. 

I stared over at the wall clock. Bright digital letters proclaimed the time to be 0900 hours. I was confused. It’s not like Lance or the girls to actually let me sleep in, but I wasn’t going to argue. He went so far as to turn off all my alarms. Meaning I missed my run. Oh well, there would be 365 other days in the year to catch up. 

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Hearing another crack and rubbing away one more sore muscle than I had yesterday, I walked to the bathroom. The exam in the mirror was as quick as brushing my teeth. My hair was a natural mess, so I rarely bothered with anything more than quick comb through with my fingers. I trimmed the thin line of my goatee and grinned at the tiny gray hairs in still around the edge of the sink. Unlike some people I lived with, I didn’t need to color my hair to hide my age. Lance started to go gray at a young age, and I still had thick black hair untouched my even the most gentle ravages of time. He was mostly salt with very little pepper. At least that was one game I’d continue to win against Lance.

I’ll admit, little things like that always put a little bounce in my step, and I let out a happy whistle as I shrugged on my robe, curling into the plush red terry cloth like a child in an oversized blanket. My relationship with Lance was healthy, in my opinion, but we still had a competitive streak. He’d get the same level of satisfaction knowing he can hold his breath five seconds longer than I can. 

As I made my way to the stairs I noticed something was off. It was something small but something that didn’t fit. I looked at the digital photos along the wall heading down to the main floor. The pictures had been reprogramed. What were once a collection of Lance’s scenic images, (He’d taken up photography in his down time) were now an assortment of human moments captured in time.

I walked down the stairs, watching the images shift in pixelated waves. I knew the photos. I recognized the scrawny angry child in the first as myself. I was wearing hand-me-downs with sleeves reaching past my hands, a small stuffed toy under my arm. The expression on my face was confusion. I was too young to understand what the orphanage was doing for me, despite being old enough to understand the concept of a birthday. The next tide of images was similar, but I appeared less confused and more withdrawn with each passing year.

Something started to change though, there was a gap of time somewhere between my 11th and 15th year and I’m very comfortable with that gap. The orphanage changed to a kitchen table and a warm yellow painted room with cloth over the table and actual curtains up to tint the filtered light rather than block it out. A large cake sat in front of me and two young men had their arms around my shoulders with the eldest of us musing his hand in my hair. Matt and Shiro. That was the year my life was saved and flipped around. A smile curled my lips as I looked at the three people in that picture. We looked like kids to me now. Round faced and bright eyes. 

The following years were much the same with Shiro constantly at my side. Matt, I didn’t see again until after the war against the Galara empire started.

The pictures became more crowded as I continued walking down the stairs. The images flipped and changed becoming brighter and happier. My stride slowly came to a stop and my fingers lifted to move over the edge of a particular frame. Hunk sat at the bottom of a literal people pile. Lance had his arms wrapped around me smiling brightly while we were crushed together by the press of the Holt siblings, Shiro, Coran, and Allura’s belying strength keeping us together. Kolivan watched in the background, his stern face never giving away any amusement for the group of kids in front of him. I shook my head, laughing softly. Most of us weren’t related by blood, but these people were my family, and I couldn’t ask for a better one. 

Time continued to flow by in digital imagery. Lance appeared to have out done himself this time. Some of these pictures I’d figured had been lost to time, or in battles that destroyed any sensitive equipment they were housed on. I bet Pidge had something to do with some of it, but I’d let Lance have his moment. 

I stopped at the one taken just last year. It was a quiet gathering. Lance had his arm around my shoulder, his nose against my face along with the girls (adopted war orphans), giving me what was dubbed ‘Birthday Snuffles’. I sighed with a laugh finding myself alone the kitchen with a single hippo-shaped chocolate cake sitting at the center. Forty-two candles lit up room, and I never bothered turning on the lights. I’ve always liked the warm glow of candles over artificial light. 

Gentle manicured nails scratched their way up my back and slipped around my chest. The familiar narrow point of a chin rested on my shoulder and a distinct snuffle was made against my neck accompanied by the smell soap and a personal scent I loved above all else.

“Happy Birthday, Keith.” I closed my eyes to the sweet timber of his whispering voice, and as I did the images recently refreshed flashed through my mind in rich detail. From a forgotten child to a beloved friend, a cherished father, and to a madly adored husband. My fingers curled into the ones at my chest, our ring fingers crossing over each other.

“Thank you, Lance.”


End file.
